Wait, hold on. Hold oooonnnn. Brrooowwwwn...
or...
...both?
The different pairs of socks MAY have been slightly acceptable a few years, H1 but this new style is one that the world may not quite be ready for.
Memorable Conversations of the Day:
H1 on the train platform, muttering: Oh I hope I didn't...OH NO. ::hide hide::
Or 2: What's the matter?
H1: I'm wearing different shoes.
Or 2: Are they both at least brown?
H1: No ::showing, in secret::
Or 2: Ohhhhh...
H1: One's black and one's brown!
Or 2: Do you...have shoes in the office?
H1: No.
Or 2: Ohhhhh... Hmmm.
Or 2 to X: You know what? I could have avoided this entire situation. I saw a mushroom in the yard this morning that I was trying to get her to kick over and I was looking at her feet yet, I didn't notice they were different shoes. This was somehow my fault.
And you know what else that's horrible? The brown one's significantly larger than the black.
H1: You know what the sad thing is? It felt weird on my foot so I thought to myself, 'this can't be the right one!' and changed it (to the wrong one).
X: How's "Two Shoes" doing?
H1: You were laughing your ass off!
Or 2: Um. I was not. You are mistaken. I was just trying to get a picture. How could you even know I was laughing when you were hysterical with laughter and tears? Not to mention you turned away everytime I tried to look at you and then you'd go running around on the platform.
H1: I had to go back home. Or 2 left me on the platform.
Alex: ::Shakes head in shame::
Or 2: Did Papa HOchie laugh?
H1: Yeah. He was laughing at me in the car.
X: She (H1) told me that she hoped your dad didn't bring the other show out of the car so everyone could see her.
Or 2, ::thinking::: Oh Lork. I can see it now... he would too.
H1 to Or 2 on the phone: Aims was laughing so hard she was crying.
Aims to Or 2 in an e-mail: When you post that blog, you have to show it to me. I was in tears.
hmm, was it an accident? or was it perhaps the manifestation of an urgent subconcious desire to embark on a great journey of many facets, requiring many different styles of shoe, of which these were but two?
ReplyDeletethen again, we do wear our shoes, do we not, and then slowly our shoes begin to wear the earth and then one day we look down at our feet and we see that we wear the earth on our feet and the shoes we put on are no longer shoes at all. and then another day we become the earth and see there was no difference between us; it never mattered that our shoes were brown or black or swooshed or kangarooed or pumped or lifted or carved of wood or forged of gold, and in any combination: we wear the earth on our feet and run laps around the hydrogen stopwatch, travelling billions upon billions of miles in our round blue shoe, soaked by the great salty tears that granted us--through the miracle of primordial shock therapy and the unethical administration of proto-organic pharmaceuticals by a bearded monster in a flowing white labcoat with too much time on His hands--life. going ever nowhere, further from nowhere, round and round, tallying our laps with candles until at last we vomit our souls and the electron stitches that bind our doll-parts together finally dissolve, and all our sawdust and stuffing blows away in the cosmic wind. and here we might think, at the end of this journey, profoundly, that every journey begins with a first step, but truly it begins with the putting on of a shoe for most of us, because without the shoe, there is no journey, and maybe no earth, and no us. could it be we never were until we were in a pair of shoes?
but here, i wander a little further still, pondering the existence of my own feet, as if made of clay by two very creative four year-olds with very different perceptions of the human foot. and now i wonder why we insist our shoes match at all, when the feet we feed them don't match each other even remotely.
behind me, a crow berates the rising sun, and i realize an opportunity for my signature line--once again, i am of my own time.
Very nice on protecting H1 and H1's minor brush with insanity. Very nice.
ReplyDeleteBut you know, poor H1. Really she's just been quite the tired bugh.
well, i had hoped to find some interesting superstitions regarding mismatched shoes, that i might then share them here, but unfortunalely most of the folklore and such that i could find revolved around the throwing of shoes over houses and setting shoes on tables and stealing your unwanted guests' shoes to get them to leave your house. but an enthusiasitically fatalistic, shoe-inspired missive always works in a pinch.
ReplyDeleteMismatched shoes are naught but a sign of craziness.
ReplyDelete- Anon.
Stop defending yourself, H1!
ReplyDeleteDo not judge your neighbor until you walk two moons in his moccasins.
ReplyDeleteI don't know what you're talking about but no one ever walked on the moon!
ReplyDelete